


The Sharpest Tool In The Shed

by BadHidingSpot



Series: Bradburry 2016 [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bradburry Challenge, Creeper Peter Hale, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 21:37:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5759731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadHidingSpot/pseuds/BadHidingSpot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now Derek put his phone down. “Do you have a point you’re going to get to? Or can you put this in an e-mail so I can delete it without reading?”<br/>“Stiles has a crush on me,” Peter said finally. He kept his face in a perfect still expression of amusement.<br/>“What?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sharpest Tool In The Shed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [steamcurious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/steamcurious/gifts).



> Unedited so apologies for mistakes.

Peter knew from early on in Derek’s life that his nephew was not very bright. Derek had an aptitude for things, and he was by no means stupid, but he was easy to manipulate and quite easy to predict. Peter could fondly remember a time, before the fire, when Derek would follow him about the Hale house and back woods asking him questions. This was before the internet when the only thing that could bring Derek answers were Talia and Peter. Peter missed those days. He missed telling Derek something he knew was wrong and later when Derek referenced that fact correcting him. It took a long time for Derek to get wise to this trick but instead of distrusting Peter completely he now only just took every fact with a grain of salt.  


It was no surprise to Peter, however, when he knew what Derek felt about Stiles before Derek knew. Or before Derek would admit it to himself or anyone else. Peter could see the appeal of Stiles, at least to someone like Derek. Stiles trembled and shuddered so frequently that Peter briefly wondered if there was such thing as a “were-rabbit” and if not Stiles might be the first. Thinking about those big brown eyes getting wider as Peter’s cock hit the back of Stiles’ throat was cause enough to smile most days. Stiles was pinning for Lydia in the way all men must pine for Lydia but what Stiles was doing to Derek was more than pinning, more than wanting, it was making him physically ill. Teenagers are so all or nothing in their affections, children in adult like bodies trying to figure out if they love you or hate you at that particular second. No in between, no middle ground, just a strong force of feeling.  


It was funny to watch. Derek stonily sitting there day after day trying his hardest not to look at Stiles and Stiles burning holes into Derek’s chest he was looking so hard. Peter particularly liked the way that Stiles’ mouth would hang open without him even knowing it; as if it were second nature for Stiles to be waiting for someone to slip something in there for safekeeping.  


“You know,” Peter said one day while sipping his Mocha Frappucino in Derek’s living room, “I think our little Stiles has a crush.”  


“News flash,” Derek scoffed ironically without looking up at Peter. “Lydia Martin is only his go-to model for the perfect woman.”  


“The perfect woman, perhaps,” Peter conceded, “but what about the perfect man?”  


This had Derek’s attention, as Peter knew it would, and his nephew looked up into Peter’s eyes with hope and caution. “What?”  


“I think the door swings both ways,” Peter went on. “Aren’t they all experimenting at that age? Although I guess Stiles is more of a self-explorer.”  


“Shut up,” Derek grunted looking back down at his phone his index finger tapping quickly at something. A text?  


“So if Lydia Martin is an outline for a female specimen it stands to reason that a male one would be similar but opposite.”  


“That’s a contradictory statement.”  


“Oh my! Look at my nephew using a five syllable word!”  


“I’m about to use a five syllable something else in a minute.”  


Peter rolled his eyes remembering how his brother and law used to be fond of such non-sensical statements like this. “We know that he values intelligence in Lydia,” Peter went on, “and stunning looks. She’s petite but Stiles likes a dominating force. So in a male I think he’d prefer someone much bigger than him. Someone tall and over powering.” Derek paused in his button pushing but then went on trying so very had to look like he wasn't’ listening. “Definitely an alpha type.” No response. This was getting annoying now. ”Of course he has daddy issues,” Derek scoffed as if at some private joke, and Peter glared. “So someone older.”  


Now Derek put his phone down. “Do you have a point you’re going to get to? Or can you put this in an e-mail so I can delete it without reading?”  


“Stiles has a crush on me,” Peter said finally. He kept his face in a perfect still expression of amusement.  


“What?”  


“I’ve got it all going for me: power, stunning looks, an older more experienced hand. Lydia and I would be the power couple of Beacon Hills.”  


“Are you saying that Stiles likes you because,” Derek paused his mind trying to muddle out his uncle’s ravings, “you and Lydia would be a good couple?”  


“Precisely! You see Lydia is Mary Shelley and I’m Lord Byron.”  


“That makes no sense.”  


“Well you see Mary Shelley wrote ‘Frankenstein’ and-”  


“I know who they are. I’m saying that your theory is completely off the wall.”  


“Stiles is Percy Shelley.”  


“I know who they are,” Derek snarled out each word a vein popping up in his forehead.  


“Then where’s the disconnect?”  


“Stiles, for one, has taste. And for two, Lydia is Ada Lovelace.”  


“Are you mad because you aren’t some one? You could be the creature.”  


“Also Byron and Shelley weren’t a couple.”  


Peter scoffed. “As if they hadn’t experimented. Percy probably liked to watch. As I bet Stiles would. You see? The simile is perfect.”  


Derek pressed his fingers to his eyes as if trying to keep them from popping out of his skull. “You are a pervert.”  


“I am not! The sexual tension between myself and Miss Martin is just so palpable that-”  


“She’s seventeen!”  


Peter shrugged. “Women are often much more mature than men.”  


“If you say another word I will actually call the police on you.”  


“And have the sheriff arrest me? Trying to sabotage my relationship with Stiles, are we nephew?”  


“You don’t have a relationship.”  


“Yet,” Peter hummed to himself on his way out the door.

Stiles was running laps with Scott and Isaac on the lacrosse field. Peter watched from the woods as the skinny twink sweat up a storm barely keeping pace with the two werewolves who, Peter could tell, were slowing themselves by quite a lot.  


Finally, Stiles fell to his knees and waved Scott and Isaac away. There was a bit of a push and pull between the Alpha and his “BFF” before Scott consented and left with Isaac to the locker room. Stiles went from knees to all fours and then to his stomach were he rolled over and heaved heavy breaths up into the sky. Peter came forward whistling jauntily. For a few minutes as he approached he thought Stiles might actually be passed out because he didn’t move at all.  


Peter looked down at the boy blocking the sun out and casting a devilishly handsome shadow over the boy’s face. Stiles opened one eye and then, in terror, scrambled up and away from Peter.  


“Is there a problem, Stiles?”  


“What the hell? You can’t just sneak up on someone like that!”  


“Why not? We’re all on a team now, aren’t we? Pack McCall.” Peter gave a painfully faked smile over the pack name.  


Stiles rolled his eyes and stood up with great effort. “Yeah well a rule in Pack McCall is that if you’ve murdered someone you have to announce yourself before you go anywhere.”  


“I can’t just take a walk?”  


“To the school lacrosse field?”  


“I’m revisiting my old stomping grounds.”  


“I thought you played basketball?”  


“You remember so much about me. I’m flattered.”  


“I only remember because Derek-” Stiles stopped then, as if realizing that there was nothing remotely embarrassing about this fact, went on, “used to play. And you guys practiced together.”  


“I taught Derek everything he knows.”  


“That’s great,” Stiles cleared his throat and tried to put his hands in the pockets of his uniform. Pockets that weren’t there. He settled for crossing his arms across his chest. “Is Derek with you or…?”  


“Do you remember the last time we were out on this field together Stiles?”  


Stiles heartbeat shot up and Peter smiled that pounding a delicious and victorious sound. “Hard to forget.”  


“Flattering.”  


“Wasn’t meant to be.”  


Peter took a few rapid steps closer to Stiles and the boy jumped back, slipping on the grass and falling backwards. Peter laughed and crouched down next to him.  


“Did I scare you?”  


“You snuck up on me.”  


“I meant that night.”  


Stiles swallowed and sat up on his elbows. He glared at Peter. Maybe Derek was giving out free lessons to the pack.  


“Did you think you were going to die? Or be bitten?” Peter stroked the back of his fingers over Stiles cheek. Stiles swatted him away and Peter snatched him by the wrist and pinned him down. “Maybe you were hoping I’d do it?”  


“I told you I didn't want it,” Stiles whispered.  


“And I told you I knew you were lying. I know that you’re lying now.”  


Peter saw Stiles’ Adam’s apple bob up and down. Peter licked his lips watching the vein pump in Stiles’ neck rapidly.  


“I knew you couldn’t be trusted,” Stiles stuttered. Peter raised his eyebrows in typical Hale questioning fashion. “You’re going to kill me now? Well Scott will know it was you and then-”  


Peter laughed. “Oh Percy,” Peter sighed, “I’m not going to kill you.”  


“Percy?”  


“I’m just here to offer you something you want.”  


“You can’t give me The Bite anymore. You aren’t an Alpha anymore.” Stiles seemed very self satisfied with this statement. Peter rolled his eyes. As impressive as that mouth was it was least appealing in that dumb smile.  


“Something else,” Peter corrected putting one hand on Stiles’ chest to keep him pinned and the other pushing his forehead back leaving his neck bare.  


“New transmission?”  


Instead of giving this stupid question an answer, Peter bit down into Stiles’ neck hard enough to bruise and he hear a sharp intake of breath let out in a satisfied moan. Peter smiled and licked the flesh there. Under the panting Peter could feel Stiles shaking with fear. He could also smell Stiles’s arousal and he bit down again continually impressed with the response time of virgin teens.  


“See I knew you wanted this,” Peter sighed softly, “You know how I knew?” Stiles just moaned again presumably trying to block out Peter’s words and only focus on sensation. “Because I’m a very smart man.” Peter moved his knee between Stiles’ thighs and planted himself there. “I’m smarter than most. Certainly not as dim as my nephew.”  


“Derek,” Stiles moaned and Peter paused.  


“Yes he’s my only nephew.” Peter stopped and thought for a moment. “Living.” Another pause. “That I know of.”  


“Derek isn’t stupid.”  


“I know that,” Peter said, “I said ‘dim’.”  


“But he’s not,” Stiles sat up again pulling his body out from under Peter’s. “He’s smart. He just doesn’t show it.”  


“Clearly,” Peter sighed. “Because you can’t show someone something you don’t have.”  


Boldly, Stiles stood up and backed away from Peter. Peter was about to pounce when he caught Scott’s scent on the wind heading back towards them. It wouldn’t do to be firm in front of the young Alpha.  


“Just because he doesn’t use his smartness-”  


“‘Smartness’?”  


“Like a weapon over everyone else,” Stiles plowed forward, “Doesn’t mean he doesn’t have it. Maybe he’s not as smart as Lydia, who is? But he is smart.”  


Peter put his hands up in mock defense. “If you say so, Stiles.”  


Scott came over and stood in front of Stiles as if he were some protector. Stiles looked grateful for the shield but he did not drop his distasteful glare at Peter.  


“What are you doing here, Peter?” Scott asked.  


“He was just leaving,” Stiles answered angrily.  


Scott nodded and crossed his arms nodding towards the parking lot. “Then leave.”  


Peter pretended to tip an invisible hat to Scott and Stiles before leaving.

“Stiles almost asked me to kiss him today,” Peter announced over dinner with Derek that night. He saw the fork bend in half under the pressure of Derek’s fist.  


“Shut up.”  


“He was seconds away from it, I swear.” Derek was clearly not going to ask despite clearly wanting to so Peter went on. “We were having a very intimate conversation on the lacrosse field and he-”  


“He said you assaulted him.”  


“What?” Peter scoffed. “When?”  


“He texted me. It’s why I painted ‘dick bag’ on your car.”  


“That was you? Very mature.” Derek smirked to himself. “Stiles texted to tell you that we spoke on the field?”  


“He texted me to tell me that my boyfriend was practically sexually assaulted by my pervy uncle.”  


“You people throw the word ‘pervert’ around like-wait what?” Peter cocked his head. “Boyfriend?”  


“Yeah,” Derek stood up putting his dishes in the sink. “We’ve been dating for a while.”  


“You didn’t see fit to tell me?”  


“It’s not really any of your business. And I wasn’t exactly hiding it.” Derek picked up his leather jacket from the coat rack and put it on. “I thought it was kind of obvious even.”  


Peter raised his eyebrows.  


“Seriously Peter,” Derek opened the loft door and grabbed his keys, “how dim can you get?” He shut the door and left.

**Author's Note:**

> Friend: Hey I found a couple of things you could edit.  
> Me: Oh thanks! Great I'll just quickly pop online and-OH DEAR GOD! Every one on the internet has read it already.
> 
> In all seriousness though folks: this fandom is strong. 105 kudos over night? Wow! Thank you.


End file.
